Of Heat & Heart
by iamjohnlocked18
Summary: Sherlock and John meet at University and sparks fly as they always do. But none other than Jim Moriarty will have something to say before John takes what is "his". AU uni!lock, but follows Series 1 loosely. Sheriarty with eventual Johnlock. I do not own any of these characters, only this story. Updates expected once a week. NOW RATED M!
1. Chapter 1

**Here's the new fanfic guys. This is my try at a uni!lock so hope you enjoy! Any suggestions/criticisms are greatly encouraged.**

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><p>Sherlock's eyes scanned his textbook, trying to absorb all the information he could. <em>"Bloody Astronomy."<em> he thought as he rubbed his eyes. He had deleted all this useless information long ago and he would probably just delete it again once he was done with the class. But right now he needed to learn all he could before tomorrow's final.

Sherlock let out a brief yawn and glanced up at the library clock. It was almost three in the morning. He wasn't necessary tired, just utterly and completely bored. _"Why did I choose to take such a mundane subject?"_ he thought, as he leaned back in his chair. At least it was almost over. His bright blue eyes looked around the large room wondering if any of his other classmates were cramming this late.

His eyes jumped to the few students left: the overachieving, muddy haired girl who always set in the front of the class in an attempt to please her professional, none-present father, the freckled face boy who always took the stairs because of his claustrophobia, the dull, but attractive footballer who was having an affair with his coach and-

Sherlock's heart skipped a beat as his eyes landed on a mop of short sandy hair and a pair of dark blue eyes just a few feet away from him. It was John Watson.

Sherlock couldn't help but stare at that attractive, small frame. John was curled up in a large chair that dwarfed his petit form even more his eyes glued to the textbook. Sherlock let out a soft sigh. He had memorized John's name the first day of class. For some reason, he was immediately intrigued with the man. Despite seeming relatively normal, there was something about him, something different, unique that Sherlock couldn't quite put his finger on. He was... a mystery. And Sherlock Holmes loved mysteries as long as he could solve them.

He ripped his eyes away from John and stared back down at his book, his eyes remaining still. Not that Sherlock had ever actually spoken to him. He was pretty sure John didn't even know he existed. He seemed to have lots of friends and Sherlock never had the courage to introduce himself. Besides, an attractive man like John. Jim wouldn't like that.

Sherlock glanced up at John again. God, he was attractive. Normally, the short form would have turned Sherlock off, but John pulled it off well. In fact, somehow it made him even more handsome and endearing. Not to mention, he was very well built and clearly kept himself in shape. Sherlock assumed from his posture and proper demeanor that he had done a stent in the army and his muscular build certainly didn't argue with that.

Sherlock saw John's eyes leave his book as he reached his arms in the air to stretch. Sherlock quickly looked back down, but it was too late. He heard the shuffling of feet and suddenly-

"You're Sherlock Holmes, right?"

Sherlock raised his eyes slowly to meet John's. One hand was in his pocket and the other was holding his bag and books. Yet somehow his posture was still impeccable. _"Yes, definitely military."_ Sherlock thought. He swallowed, his stomach doing flips.

"Yes." He answered softly.

John smiled brightly and set himself down in the seat across from Sherlock.

"I'm John. John Watson. We're in the same Astronomy class." He said, reaching his hand over the table.

Sherlock tentatively brought his hand to meet John's and shook it. He could feel John's fingers were calloused, but his palms soft. _He was right handed and shaking with his right so it wasn't guitar...most stringed instruments were out of the question...he seems the adventurous type so...rock climbing._

Sherlock landed on this conclusion as he released John's hand. He could feel himself smirking, but quickly hid it as he spoke.

"Yes, I know who you are." Sherlock mumbled.

John cocked his head slightly.

"I guess you are as bright as they say." He said, smiling.

Sherlock could feel himself blush. He never blushed.

"I just heard you introduce yourself first day." He explained quickly. "Besides, I believe the term is genius."

Those last words left Sherlock's mouth before he could stop them. He looked up at John worried (_him_, Sherlock Holmes, _actually_ worried) about how he'd react. This is usually around the time people would tell him to piss off. But instead John laughed, his eyes crinkling.

"That's right. They also said you were a bit of an arrogant ass about it." John said, smirking. "But from what I hear you have ever right to be. Graduated top of your class at Eton and apparently solved a triple murder that same year. And you've solved, uh, 20 murder cases this year with Scotland Yard and somehow still managed excellent marks. Yeah, I'd say you deserve to be a little arrogant."

Sherlock could feel his cheeks warming again. He smirked back at John.

"Actually, I've solved 22 cases this year so far, not 20."

John laughed again and this time Sherlock joined him. He couldn't help himself. John's laugh was literally contagious. Once their laughter died down, Sherlock narrowed his eyes, still smirking.

"How do you know all that? Do people really talk about me?" he asked. In his experience, people only focused on his more negative qualities.

John shrugged.

"Uh I guess they do." He answered. "I also heard that you got kicked out of Cambridge after announcing at an school wide assembly that the Dean was having an affair with a male professor, but I wasn't daft enough to believe that one."

Sherlock looked down and swallowed. John opened his mouth a gap.

"You really did that?" he asked in a whisper.

Sherlock bit his lip and nodded.

"I didn't realize his wife was in the audience." He muttered with a half smile.

John shook his head and let out a soft chuckle. He looked up and met Sherlock's eyes.

"You are something else, Sherlock Holmes." John said, smiling almost nervously "I wish we would have met first day of class."

Sherlock suddenly couldn't look away from John's gaze. Those eyes...there were so much to them. There was something deep, something underneath. Sherlock wanted to know more about him, so much more. But before he could dig any deeper, John broke the gaze and stood up from the table, gathering his things.

"Anyway, it was, uh, great to finally meet you." He said quickly, placing his book in his bag. "Good luck on the test. I'm sure you'll ace it."

Sherlock forced a smile.

"I don't know. Astronomy's not my strong suit." He said, looking down at his open book with disgust.

John shook his head, slinging his bag on his back. He flashed Sherlock a bright smile. Sherlock felt his stomach flip over again.

"You'll do great. I have a feeling you can do just about anything."

And with that, John turned and walked away. Sherlock couldn't help but smile as he watched John's back disappear behind the sea of bookshelves. He _was_ different. Sherlock now knew it without a shadow of a doubt. He wanted to see him again. He had to see him again. Somehow, someway Sherlock Holmes was determined to get to know John Watson.

He would worry about Jim's reaction later.

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><p><strong>Please review and follow! Every little bit is helpful. :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Brand new chapter folks! Thanks to everyone that has followed, favorited and reviewed so far. The feedback is very, very much appreciated! Anyway, enjoy! :)**

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><p>John let out a sigh as he set his pencil down next to his test. He looked up at the large clock in the front of the room<em>. "Just in time." <em>He thought as he flipped his test over._ "About a minute left."_ John relaxed into his chair and let his eyes wondered around the classroom until they landed on Sherlock's dark hair and his utterly bored expression.

John let out a small smile. Honestly, he would have finished the test a lot sooner if Sherlock hadn't been distracting him. Not that Sherlock had done it on purpose, but after he had finished the finale within the first 15 minutes, it had been quite a joy to watch him. He twiddled his thumbs, rolled his eyes several times when he caught sight of others' papers, and generally huffed and puffed throughout the next hour and a half. Most people in the classroom seemed rather frustrated with the commotion, but John enjoyed every second of it. Sherlock was a very appealing distraction.

"One minute left." Came the professor's booming voice from the front of the class.

John saw Sherlock let out a sigh of relief and immediately began gathering his things. He couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at Sherlock's obvious exacerbation. John saw Sherlock's eyes flicker towards him and small smirk form on his lips as placed his books in back pack.

John still couldn't believe he had finally gathered the courage to talk to Sherlock last night. John had wanted to introduce himself the first day, but Sherlock was not exactly approachable and always seemed to be busy with something far more important. And the more John learned about him, the more intimidated he became.

But last night when John saw Sherlock sitting at the library table, his beautiful curls not quite covering his piercing blue eyes, he realized this might be his last opportunity and finally summoned the courage. It might have been a little too late, but at least John could say he had spoken to the great Sherlock Holmes.

He saw Sherlock's eyes flicker back to his once more and John realized he must be staring. He quickly looked down at his desk, but he still felt Sherlock's eyes on him.

"Time is up." The professor announced as he stood up from his desk. "Please put your pencils down, turn your papers over and exit the room in an orderly fashion."

John stood up along with the rest of the students and slung his bag on his back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sherlock doing the same. He seemed to be taking his time despite his obvious desire to leave. John frowned at this as they both began walking toward the exit. Sherlock was just a few feet in front of him walking so slowly that other students were beginning to push past him.

_"Maybe he's waiting for...me?" _John thought. His heart leapt at the idea, but he quickly pushed it out of his mind. He didn't want to get his hopes up like that. However, that didn't mean he wasn't going to take advantage of this opportunity.

"Sherlock!" He called as they both finally squeezed their way out of the classroom.

Sherlock quickly turned around at John's voice and let out a brief smile as John stopped in front of him.

"Hello John." Sherlock said, his baritone flowing through John's entire body. He felt himself shiver.

"Hey, I was just wondering, uh, how you thought you did on the test?" John asked, burying his hands in his pocket and refusing to meet Sherlock's eyes. How could this man turn him into a stuttering idiot?

However, Sherlock seemed not to notice John's anxiety and instead shrugged.

"It was pretty easy despite being extremely boring." He answered, his mouth tilting into a small smirk.

John chuckled. Normally, Sherlock's blunt and arrogant nature would have been an immediate turnoff, but somehow it made him more fascinating and attractive.

"I don't think I hate the subject near as much as you do, but I can't argue that is a bit dull." John said with a half-smile.

Sherlock nodded, looking down at his feet. An awkward silence quickly seeped into their conversation. John racked his brain, searching for something, anything to say before Sherlock left. Finally-

"So what are your plans for the summer?" He asked quickly.

_"'What are your plans for the summer?' Could you've said something more idiotic John!" _he thought angrily to himself. However, Sherlock seemed happy to answer.

"Well, I want to stay in London, but it is so expensive." He replied. "I even have my eye on this little flat, but I would need a roommate."

Sherlock let out a cold laugh, looking away. John saw pain flash across his face before Sherlock's stone expression return.

"But who would want to room with me?" He concluded.

"I would."

The words left John's mouth before he could stop them. _"Oh great."_ he thought. _"You really blew it this time."_ But as he looked up at Sherlock, his reaction once again surprised him. He looked shocked alright, but he was smiling.

"Really?" Sherlock asked tentatively. "You would want to room with me?"

John smiled back, his heart thumping his chest.

"Of course! I mean, uh, yeah I would." He quickly corrected. "I happen to be looking for a place to live over the summer, but I couldn't afford London by myself."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he frowned slightly. John's heart sunk. He knew he should have gotten his hopes up. No way Sherlock Holmes would want to room with a nobody like-

"How do you feel about the violin?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

John looked up in surprise at Sherlock's question.

"Uh, what?" He muttered rather confused.

Sherlock stood up straight, placing his hands behind his back.

"I play the violin when I am thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days." He explained. "Would that bother you?"

Sherlock's lips began to curl into a grin as he continued.

"I just think potential flat mates should know the worst about each other."

John breathed a sigh of relief and smiled brightly.

"No, I think I could deal with that." He replied quickly.

Sherlock nodded curtly, still grinning slightly.

"Well then we will meet tomorrow at 2 pm and take a look at the flat." He said. "I will see you then."

John nodded in response as Sherlock turned and began to walk away down the hall. Then suddenly he flipped his head back around at John.

"Oh and the address is 221 B Baker Street." He said with quick wink. "Afternoon!"

And with that, Sherlock disappeared into the sea of students leaving John standing there heart-a-flutter and still smiling.

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><p><strong>If you guys are enjoying, please follow, favorite and of course review. I always try to get back to my wonderful reviewers to thank them and update them on when the next chapter will be posted. Also, be forewarned this will go up to a M rating in few chapters (I will put warnings up) so be prepared for some smut and violence. Moriarty is involved after all so what else could you expect?... ;)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is the next chapter! I know Jim still hasn't been arrived (he is coming I promise), but you do get a little insight into his and Sherlock's relationship in this one. Anyway, enjoy and as always criticisms/comments are welcome! :)**

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><p>The next day, Sherlock could feel himself shaking as he stepped into the cab. "<em>Why am I so nervous?" <em>He thought._ "I don't get nervous."_ But Sherlock was quickly realizing that John Watson was the exception to everything he _thought_ he knew about himself.

"221 B Baker Street." He croaked to the cabbie.

The cabbie nodded and began driving down the crowded streets of London. Sherlock placed his hands in his lap trying to keep them steady. All these questions and worries kept running through head on repeat. W_hat if John didn't like the place? What if John was bothered by his equipment and experiments? What if John figured out that he couldn't stand Sherlock's brash manner and mood swings? What if John figured out he couldn't stand him?_

That last question especially scared Sherlock. He wanted John to like him despite all his obvious faults. He wanted John to accept him, to admire him, to...love him? Sherlock sighed as he laid his head against the cab window. _"This is absolutely ridiculous."_ He told himself. _"You barely know the man and you already want all this? You didn't even crave this much acceptance from Jim-"_

Sherlock quickly stopped himself. He didn't want to think about Jim. He knew Jim wouldn't react kindly to him moving in with another man. His boyfriend didn't like other men in Sherlock's life.

_"Is Jim still even my "boyfriend" though?"_ He asked himself. They hadn't spoken in more than a month and the last time Jim was in town he only stayed for one night. Of course, he still declared his love for Sherlock as always, murmuring apologies for being away for so long as he held Sherlock tight to his chest. But the next morning, he was gone and Sherlock was left once again feeling hollow.

Sherlock shook his head, trying to get rid of those painful memories. At Eton, him and Jim had been so close, both outcasts, both geniuses. They had formed a bond, one that Sherlock thought would never break. But he was obviously wrong.

Of course, there were things about Jim that bothered Sherlock. For one, he was extremely possessive over Sherlock. He didn't like Sherlock to be around men for long periods of time or even have male friends. However, this had rarely affected Sherlock since he didn't have many friendships to begin with and usually mucked them up anyway. Jim could also be careless with others feelings, even cruel, but then again Sherlock could also so he never held it against him except on a few occasions.

No, what really bothered Sherlock was the change he saw in Jim's eyes. Ever since they graduated from Eton, Sherlock had starting noticing small changes in his behavior. Jim seemed more detached, more manic, more prone to anger. Overall, though he hid it so well that Sherlock would have dismissed much of it if it hadn't been for the eyes. When he first met Jim, his eyes were bright and full of life, curosity and wonder. Now they were sunken and hollow. Sherlock could swear that every time he saw Jim, his eyes seemed even darker and duller as if the light was slowly being sucked out of them. Sherlock of course knew this was scientifically impossible, but he couldn't help but shiver ever so slightly whenever he looked directly in those empty eyes. So far, though, Jim hadn't noticed.

"We're here." The driver grumbled from the front of the cab.

Sherlock quickly put thoughts of Jim out of his mind as he looked up to see that they had in fact arrived at 221 B and there, standing in front of the door, looking rather lost was John Watson.

Sherlock felt his heart leap into his throat as he thrust the bills in to the cabbie's hand and quickly stepped out. _"Keep control of yourself, Sherlock."_ He told himself. _"Don't want to scare him off."_

"John. It's good to see you." Sherlock said taking off his glove to shake John's hand.

John smiled nervously as his hand met Sherlock's.

"It's good to see you too, Sherlock." He replied.

Sherlock nodded briefly before knocking on the door. He looked down at John who was looking up and down the street, frowning.

"This place has got to be pretty expensive." He inquired. "I mean, uh, with the location and all."

Sherlock shook his head.

"Actually, it's quite reasonable." He answered. "I helped the landlady out of a tight spot when her husband was facing the death penalty in Florida."

John looked quite taken aback as Sherlock knocked again.

"What? Did you stop her husband being executed?" He asked, frowning.

Sherlock shook his head once more, trying to a hide a smile.

"Oh no, I ensured it." He replied.

Suddenly, the door flew open and there was that kind, wrinkled face Sherlock knew so well. Catching sight of him, the woman immediately opened her arms and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Oh Sherlock! It's so good to see you." She exclaimed, smiling as she released him.

"You too, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock answered.

He turned to John and quickly made introductions before they began heading up the stairs. Upon arriving at the flat, Mrs. Hudson unlocked the door, swinging it open as they stepped inside.

Sherlock watched John out of the corner of his eye as John wondered around the living room and then the kitchen. His brow was furrowed as he looked everything up and down. Sherlock was beginning to worry when finally John spoke.

"Well, this could do quite nicely." He said with a small smile, setting himself down in a nearby chair. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief and he spoke just as John continued.

"That's why I went ahead and moved in." He declared at the same moment John's voice muttered, "We'll have to get rid of some of this junk."

Sherlock immediately felt his cheeks go red with embarrassment and ran over the table to try and arrange his sea of boxes a little more neatly.

"Of course I can tidy up a bit." He said quickly, refusing to meet John's eye.

Sherlock suddenly felt John's hand on his back, but it was quickly removed as Sherlock turned around to face him. John was quite flush as well as he spoke.

"No, it's, uh, really not a problem." He stuttered, stuffing his hands into his pocket, barely meeting Sherlock's eyes. "I should expect a little chaos if I am live with a bloody genius detective."

Sherlock looked down at John in shock and felt his cheeks warm again this time from the flattery. He nodded, forcing a smile as Mrs. Hudson finally spoke up.

"There is another bedroom upstairs if you'll needing it." She said with a coy smile, her eyes moving back and forth between to the two of them.

John and Sherlock both looked up at each other and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the warm blue eyes meeting the cold blue ones. Sherlock could feel his body beginning to tremble just as John broke the gaze to answer.

"Of course. I mean, yeah, we'll be needing two rooms." He explained quickly.

Sherlock, unable to speak, nodded in agreement and Mrs. Hudson's smile grew. Then (_"Just in time."_ Sherlock thought) there was a hurried rap at the door.

"If you say so dears." Mrs. Hudson replied as she moved toward the stairs."I'll just go and get that. Make yourselves comfortable."

And then she was gone and they were alone. Sherlock tried to busy himself with unpacking some of his boxes while John set back down in the chair. As Sherlock removed his violin from his bags, he heard John's voice behind him.

"So you weren't kidding about the violin then?" He asked.

Sherlock felt his heart sink, but as he turned around he saw that John was smiling. He let out a small smile himself as he picked up the violin.

"Yeah, I'm afraid I do." Sherlock answered as he flicked the strings. "I find it helps me think. I'm no master at it however."

John's smile widened.

"I am sure you play it beautifully" He said. "I would love to hear you sometime."

Sherlock looked up and meet John's eyes once more. They were so kind yet strong and so many secrets hidden underneath. Maybe Sherlock _would_ get the opportunity to find out more about this man. He had never wanted to be a part of someone's life as much as he wanted to be part of John's.

"I would like that." He answered softly.

Everything felt perfect and simple in that moment. _"Could I be making my first real friend?"_ Sherlock thought. _"Or maybe even...more?"_ But the moment was suddenly broken as he looked up at the door to see Mrs. Hudson standing next to a tall man with straight black hair. Sherlock's heart suddenly jumped with excitement and curiosity as he set his violin down and walked up to greet the man.

"Detective Lestrade." He said with a smirk. "Any progress?"

Lestrade cleared his throat before answering.

"Well, you know how they never leave a note?" He inquired.

Sherlock nodded curtly, his eyes widening.

"Well, someone left a note." Lestrade continued.

Sherlock wanted to jump and scream for joy, but he kept his face straight.

"Address?" He asked calmly.

Lestrade thrust a piece of paper into Sherlock's hand and turned to leave.

"See you there?" He asked before walking out the door.

Sherlock nodded once again and as soon as he heard the downstairs door close, he let out a joyful laugh.

"Yes, yes! A note!" He exclaimed, grabbing his coat from the rack. "This is brilliant! Oh, it's Christmas!"

Sherlock almost leap toward the door with joy.

"Don't wait up Mrs. Hudson!" He said quickly as he began rushing down the stairs.

Then suddenly he stopped and one thought flashed through his mind: John. He turned around and ran back up the flat to find a rather shocked and confused John Watson still sitting in the chair. _"This is my chance to show him what I can really do."_ Sherlock thought slyly. _"In person..."_

"There's been something I have been meaning to ask you, John." He said slowly as he slipped his coat on.

John looked up at him and a new emotion flashed over his face, one that Sherlock recognized: curiosity.

"Yes?" John said tentatively.

Sherlock felt a smirk form on his lips as he asked the question he had been wondering since he first caught sight of John Watson.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

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><p><strong>I hope you guys don't mind how I changed things around a bit. I know their original and BBC introductions are hard to beat, but I tried my best. Anyway, please do follow, favorite and review my wonderful readers! Till next time!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**New chapter folks! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! They are very much appreciated. Please keep them coming! ;) Enjoy!**

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><p>John stared at Sherlock blankly, confused and shocked. <em>"How could he possibly know that?"<em> He thought. _"No one is that smart..."_ John narrowed his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly.

Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh.

"You know very well what I mean, John." He said, shaking his head. "Now answer me: Afghanistan or Iraq?"

John let a nervous chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

"Uh, Afghanistan." He replied tentatively. "But how-"

However, Sherlock quickly interrupted him.

"And you're pre-med, right?" He asked, slowly approaching John.

John let out an exacerbated sigh, but he couldn't help but smile slightly.

"How do-" he begin to inquire, but knowing it was useless, he instead answered- "Yeah, I'm applying to Bart's next year."

Sherlock nodded knowingly, as he placed his hands behind his back, standing right in front of John's chair. John stood up to better meet Sherlock's eyes.

"And I am assuming you saw a lot of violence and death during the war?" Sherlock asked, those eyes burrowing deep into John's.

John's heart began to thump. He could almost feel Sherlock's warm breath on his face.

"Uh, yes too much." He stuttered as he stood up tall. "Enough for a lifetime."

Sherlock let out a sly smile as his eyes ran slowly up and down John's body. John repressed a shiver.

"Want to see some more?" Sherlock asked, still smiling.

John's first instinct was to lie and say no, but he had a feeling would Sherlock would easily see through that. But even more importantly than that, he found he didn't _want_ to lie, not to Sherlock. Not only did he realize this could be opportunity to see Sherlock's brilliant mind at work, but he also had the strong desire to earn this man's trust. This man who seemed to trust no one. John let a small smile to match Sherlock's.

"Oh God yes." He replied.

And with that answer, they were both out the door, shouting their goodbyes to Mrs. Hudson as they rushed down the stairs. _"What am I getting into?"_ John asked himself. But as they stepped into the cold night, he found himself still smiling.

X

The first few minutes of the cab ride were relatively quiet. John kept glancing over at Sherlock, who seemed lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Okay, how did you do it? How did you know I was in the military?" John asked, his voice raised with curiosity and exasperation.

Sherlock was startled by the question at first, but quickly regained his composure.

"Well it was quite simple." Sherlock answered calmly, turning his head to face John. "The first day of class I had my suspicions what with the visible tan lines around your neck and wrists. Then as I studied you, I noticed your posture. It was straight as an arrow, even when you were carrying your books or bag. Considering those two points and the fact that you called the professor "Sir" when no one else did, I came to the conclusion that you had recently returned from military service abroad. Therefore, with two wars going on, the logical question is Afghanistan or Iraq."

When Sherlock finished, John simply stared at him, mouth a gap. That was simply-

"Incredible..." He muttered, finally finding the correct word. "Bloody incredible!"

Sherlock seemed surprised by this reaction and frowned slightly.

"That's not what people normally say." He said quietly.

John cocked his head to side, curious.

"Well, what do they normally say?" He asked.

Sherlock looked up and met John's eyes, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Piss off." He answered.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, before both of them burst out laughing. John found himself rather enjoying Sherlock's laugh. He didn't seem like a man that laughed often. In fact, the first time John had heard that baritone chuckle was that night in the library. He quite liked hearing Sherlock's laugh and maybe even more the fact that they were laughing together.

Finally, after regaining their composure, John found another question on his lips.

"But how did you know I was in pre-med?" He asked.

John saw another smile beginning to form on Sherlock's lips as he spoke.

"Well, that also was quite simple." He replied, his tone serious, but his eyes laughing. "I caught sight of one of your notebooks."

And they were both caught in a fit of laughter again until the cabbie loudly announced that they had arrived. They stepped out the cab and quickly met with Lestrade who led them up to the crime scene. However, any giddiness that lingered in John quickly disappeared when he caught sight of the dead woman laying on the floor.

As Sherlock slipped on his gloves and began to examine the body, John slowly moved up to get a better look at the woman. She looked to be in her mid-thirties and was dressed in all pink down to her shoes. She looked almost peaceful if it wasn't her dead eyes and the word she had scratched into the wood floor with her fingernail.

"Rache?" John murmured, reading the word slowly.

He looked at Sherlock for an answer, but he was bent over the body and didn't seem to hear nor care. John instead turned to Lestrade, who was standing by the open door.

"What does that mean?" He asked the detective. Lestrade simply shrugged, but suddenly a shorter man appeared in the doorway with a smug look on his face.

"Obviously, it's 'Rache' the German word for revenge." The man answered. "Apparently this woman had a lot of-"

But before the man could finish, Sherlock interrupted, walking up to the door.

"Yes, 'rache'!" Sherlock said rather sarcastically. "Excellent deduction, Anderson."

This man Anderson, obviously not sensing the sarcasm, smiled happily.

"Why thank you!" He continued. "I thought it-"

But before Anderson could finish, Sherlock slammed the door in his face and strode back to the body. John suppressed a chuckle.

"So obviously you don't think it's the German word for revenge?" Lestrade inquired, smiling slightly himself.

Sherlock shook his head, letting out a harsh laugh.

"No, of course not!" He exclaimed. "This was her last word! Something to help us find her killer. No, the word she was writing is Rachel."

"Rachel? Why?" John asked.

Sherlock shrugged.

"I don't know yet." He answered slowly, his eyes scanning the body. "But I narrowed down all the words she could have been writing and it's the only one that fit."

John looked up at Sherlock in wonder.

"How did you-" He stuttered. "I mean, that's amazing."

Sherlock looked over at John and smiled briefly before Lestrade spoke.

"So what else did you figure out, Sherlock?" The detective asked.

Sherlock quickly turned back to the body, his eyes now glued to the dead corpse. He took a deep breath before starting.

"First of all, she's obviously visiting to London given that her jacket is still wet and it only rained in Bristols today. Most likely spending the night with one of her many lovers given the state of her wedding ring. She also-"

But John interrupted, his mind swimming with questions.

"Wait, what do you mean 'the state of her wedding ring'?" He asked. "What about it makes you thinks she's having one affair, let alone many?"

Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh and walked over to her right hand.

"The outside of her ring is dirty and grimy, see?" He explained, pointing at it. "All the rest of her jewelry, her necklace, earrings, are clean and shiny. That ring is the state of her marriage right there. But-"

Sherlock pulled off the ring and showed it to John.

"See the inside? It's in better condition than the outside." He said, before slipping the ring back on the woman's finger. "Which means the only cleaning it gets is when she works it off her finger. And honestly, given her age and the detail she puts into her makeup and hair, it's likely a string of lovers because she could never commit to one man and wouldn't want to be 'single' for too long."

As Sherlock stood up, John once again found his mouth open. He had so many questions, so many things that remained unanswered, but all he could say was-

"Amazing...Bloody amazing."

Sherlock smiled again and leaned closer to him, his lips almost touching John's ear.

"You do realize you are saying these things out loud?" He asked softly.

John felt his cheeks warm and quickly shut his mouth, stepping away from the body. Sherlock was still smiling slyly as he turned to Lestrade.

"Now then, where is her case?" He inquired.

The detective cocked his head, obviously confused.

"A case? We didn't find one." He answered.

Sherlock shook his head and pointed back to the body.

"But see the small splash patterns on her leg there!" He exclaimed. "She was carrying a small case!"

Lestrade shook his head once again.

"We didn't find anything on the body." He explained.

Sherlock frowned and took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly, before they suddenly flew open.

"But that would mean-" he started, but instead of finishing he let out a bright smile and ran out the door.

John and Lestrade followed as Sherlock rushed down the stairs, shouting instructions as he went.

"Find out who this woman was! Find Rachel!" He yelled as he ran. "Whoever did this, whoever took her made a terrible mistake."

Lestrade and John stopped as Sherlock reached the bottom step.

"But what?" John asked loudly. "What was their mistake?"

Sherlock turned around to face them, grinning from ear to ear.

"Pink!" He shouted and then he was gone out the door, away into the night.

John didn't know what to do at first. He was utterly confused and rather frustrated that Sherlock had left him there. But assuming that this was normal given everyone's calm reaction, he quickly left the building and began walking down the street, looking for a cab.

As John walked, he noticed his heart was still beating hard. _"It was rather exciting, wasn't it?"_ He thought, smiling to himself. _"Even if my new flatmate did just abandon me in the middle of no where."_

John finally arrived at a busy crossing and began trying to hail cabs to no avail. And just as he let out a sigh of frustration at his lack of success, the phone booth next to him began to ring.

* * *

><p><strong>Hopefully you guys are enjoying this tale so far and the tweaks I have made to the first series. It's tough to follow in Moffat and Gatniss' footsteps, but I am enjoying myself. Anyway, please follow, favorite and review wonderful readers! Till next time!<strong>

**P.S. Next chapter might be up a little sooner because a certain someone finally shows up and I am uber excited to write him so I have already plotted out quite a deal already! Let's hope real life doesn't get in the way. :)  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Here is a new chapter early readers! I thought about moving the chapter up to a M rating, but it's not quite there yet. However, there is some sexiness in this chapter so be aware! Anyway, enjoy! :)**

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><p>After about thirty minutes of searching, Sherlock found the woman's case in a dumpster near the crime scene. He was quick to hail a cab and rush back to 221 B. <em>"Pink!"<em> He thought proudly as he looked down at the bright colored case. _"How could anyone be so careless?"_

He arrived at the flat and immediately began searching through the case. S_exy underwear. Check. Dark pink makeup case. Check. Small jewelry bag (just large enough to store a wedding ring and earrings). Check. Mobile..._

Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he searched through the case again. _"No mobile?"_ He thought finally stepping back from the bag. _"That's impossible."_

He tossed the case to the side in disgust and flung himself down on the couch. _"What could I have missed?"_ He thought, running through the crime scene in his mind. _"All the evidence says she lived on her phone! Unless..."_

Sherlock sat up suddenly and gasped. He ran to his own mobile just as the idea hit him and texted John frantically.

**"Come to 221B if convenient."**

He let a small smile as he did so. He couldn't wait to see John's face when he saw what Sherlock had pieced together. He wanted to prove himself to John, prove he was just a good as John had heard.

As Sherlock spread out once again on the couch, his stomach abruptly clenched with worry. Could John possibly be mad at him for running off? _"I probably shouldn't have left him there."_ He concluded, silently criticizing himself. _"It wasn't a very...nice thing to do."_

However, Sherlock hoped John wouldn't hold that against him once they continued on the case together. _Together._ Sherlock liked the sound of that.

After a few minutes, Sherlock looked down at his mobile to see no response. He let out a loud sigh and picked it up again, typing even faster than before.

**"If inconvenient, come anyway."**

He paused for second as he stared at his phone. Sherlock let out a sly smile as he typed out another message. _"Maybe a little more enticing will do the trick..."_ He thought.

**"May be dangerous."**

Sherlock relaxed into the couch quite pleased with himself. _"That should get him here rather quick."_ He thought happily. As he was just settling into his mind palace, Sherlock heard the flat door open. Sherlock looked over expecting to see John, but instead he saw someone quite different. Someone he wasn't sure he wanted to see.

"Hello Sherlock." Jim said softly.

Sherlock remained still on the couch. There he was, his Jim, looking just as handsome as ever dressed in a dark gray suit, his black hair slicked back. He was smiling brightly, but those eyes. Those eyes looked even colder.

"Hello Jim." Sherlock muttered.

John strode over to the couch and stood over Sherlock, who still hadn't moved.

"Didn't you miss me love?" He asked, sweetly.

Sherlock rolled his eyes openly as he forced himself off the couch and pushed past Jim walking toward the table.

"Really?" He replied coldly as he sat down and opened up his laptop. "That's the first thing you ask after I haven't heard from you in over a month?"

Sherlock heard Jim walk up behind him as he began to type.

"Oh Sherly, don't be-" Jim started, but Sherlock refused to let him finish.

"So how's the IT business?" He asked Jim quickly. "It must be booming with all this travel you are doing."

Sherlock heard Jim sigh before he answered.

"What can say? My client is in constant need of my services at his many companies." He answered, sharply. However, as Sherlock felt Jim's lips on his ear, his voice softened.

"But I don't want to talk about work." He continued, his breath tickling Sherlock's neck. "I so missed you, Sherlock."

His deep tone made Sherlock tremble with desire. Jim knew all of his buttons. But refusing to give in, Sherlock stood up from the chair and tried to push past Jim into the kitchen. However, this time Jim blocked his way.

"Oh Sherly..." He cooed, bringing his fingers to lightly brush Sherlock 's curls. "Don't be mad, please. I need you..."

Sherlock finally looked up to meet Jim's eyes. They were so empty despite the softness on his face. But before he could stare into them for too long, Jim pressed his mouth against his.

Sherlock wanted to push him off, but he felt his body giving in to Jim's soft lips and caresses. Before he knew it, he was kissing Jim back, their lips crashing together full of want and need. _"It's been so long."_ He thought. _"So long since I've wanted this."_

But as their kiss became more passionate, it suddenly wasn't Jim that was kissing Sherlock, but John. It was no longer Jim's slick hair he ran his fingers through, but John's sandy mop. And as Jim nipped at Sherlock's neck and rubbed his knee against his growing hardness, it was John Sherlock pictured kissing his neck and thrusting against him. Sherlock felt his desire, his need growing not for Jim, but instead this idea of John touching and kissing him. His mind was almost completely clouded with lust and just before he was about to murmur the name of the man he was imagining, Sherlock heard the flat door open.

"Oh, uh, sorry." John's voice rang out from behind Jim.

Sherlock ripped his lips away from Jim's and they both turned to find John Watson standing in the doorway, looking shocked and Sherlock thought...disappointed?

"Who are you?" Jim asked rather angrily.

John looked a bit embarrassed and flustered, but he stood his ground.

"I'm John Watson," He said offering Jim his hand. "Sherlock's new flatmate."

Ignoring John's hand, Jim looked back to Sherlock, his eyes flashing with anger.

"New...flatmate?" He questioned, his voice remaining steady.

Sherlock took a deep breath and stood up tall. He refused to be intimated by Jim.

"Yes, he is. I needed a flatmate for the summer." He answered firmly. Sherlock then turned to John, not quite meeting his eye. "John, this is Jim. We went to Eton together." He concluded.

John nodded, but his head remained down. Sherlock turned back to Jim, whose eyes were narrow, amplifying their coldness. Sherlock suppressed a shiver and cleared his throat.

"Now Jim I am afraid John and I have some work to do on a case." He said. "We will have to talk later."

Jim clicked his tongue with frustration, but quickly plastered a smile on his face.

"Of course, I understand!" He exclaimed, his voice dripping with sweetness. "I'll be in town for a few weeks so I am sure I will see you soon."

With that, Jim walked toward the door, stopping for a second in front of John.

"It was so nice to meet you John Watson." He whispered, his voice now cold and flat. "I am sure we will be seeing each other again."

And then Jim was gone, down the stairs, slamming the downstairs door behind him.

Sherlock and John stood there for a second rather awkwardly. Sherlock had no idea what to say. He was ashamed and embarrassed, not only because John had seen the kiss, but because pictures of "his" John were still flashing through his mind. Sherlock heard John clear his throat and he looked up tentatively.

"So...I didn't know you had a boyfriend." John commented quietly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Sherlock shook his head. How could he explain?

"No, we're not-" he began, but he couldn't quite piece the right words together. He sighed deeply. "It's complicated."

Sherlock heard John let out a sharp laugh.

"Oh okay." He replied, bitterness clear in his tone. "I get it. Snogging a bloke against a table seems real complicated."

Sherlock felt anger begin to boil under his skin. What business was it of his?

"Listen, it's not important." He said, his tone raised. "We have other matters to attend to, okay?"

John didn't reply. Sherlock finally looked down at him and their eyes suddenly met. Sherlock felt guilt and sorrow pierce him like a knife. John looked so utterly...hurt. _"You caused this, you fool."_ He thought to himself. _"Now you've ruined any chance you had with him."_ Sherlock spoke softly this time, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Can we just work on the case?" He asked. Sherlock felt like he was begging for his life. He couldn't stand seeing John like this. "Please?"

After a moment, John nodded, letting out a weak smile.

"Yeah, sure." He replied. "You did say there could be danger involved."

Sherlock forced a smile and nodded. He felt like his heart was tearing in two, but if he could have any part of John Watson he would.

"There's always danger, John." Sherlock said. "Always."

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><p><strong>Well there you have it! Our wonderful Jim has finally arrived and I promise there is plenty more of him to come! Please do follow, favorite and review folks. It is so appreciated! Till next time. :)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**First of all, so sorry for the delay. Real life caught up with me these last few weeks and sadly this story had to be put on the back-burner. However, hopefully there will be no more delays of that magnitude. Anyway, hopefully you guys enjoy this chapter and thanks again for reading! :) **

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><p>John tried his best to keep up with Sherlock's long legs as they headed toward 22 Northumberland Street. Sherlock had quickly explained that he had found the woman's case, but not her mobile. According to Sherlock, this meant the killer had it given that a serial adulterer would keep a tight hold on her phone. He had then forced John to text the woman's mobile number, pretending to be the dead woman (Jennifer Wilson according to the label on her case) in order to "entice" the killer, as Sherlock put it. The moment John's mobile began ringing from a blocked number, they were off, heading to the location that "Jennifer" had asked the killer to meet her at.<p>

Even at this moment, Sherlock was still rambling on about the case, but John was barely listening. Normally, he would have been hanging on every word that left Sherlock's mouth, but John found it hard to concentrate when that same image kept flashing through his mind. That image of Sherlock's lips locked on Jim's.

It made John sick with jealousy just thinking about it, even though he knew he had no right to be. _"You just met him a few days ago for God's sake!"_ John told himself. _"Not to mention you're not bloody gay!"_ Both of these points were in fact true. John barely knew anything about Sherlock and he had never been attracted to men before. However, he still couldn't help but wish it had been his lips pressing against Sherlock's and not Jim's.

There was also something about Jim that bothered John; something was just...off about him. Of course, the same thing could be said about Sherlock, but while John had instantly trusted Sherlock, he had instead instantly feared Jim. And it didn't help that his last words spoken to John about seeing him again had sounded more like a promise than an assumption.

"John? Are you even listening?"

Sherlock's exacerbated voice jarred John out of his thoughts and he quickly looked up to respond.

"Uh yes of course." He replied, forcing a small smile. "Sorry, I was just out of it for a second."

Sherlock frowned, but nodded curtly and soon was leading John into a small, dimly lit restaurant on the corner. They took a seat at a booth by the window and were quickly met by the loud, friendly owner who greeted Sherlock like an old friend. He went on and on about how Sherlock had saved him from a triple murder charge before Sherlock calmly reminded him that he had only done so by proving the owner was robbing a house at the time. However, the man brushed it off, still offering anything on the menu for Sherlock and his "date" and ignored John's protests that they were not dating.

Soon enough, they were sitting in silence, John eating and Sherlock staring intently out the window. As he ate, John couldn't help but stare at Sherlock's static form, though luckily Sherlock didn't seem notice. He couldn't deny that Sherlock was attractive even from a purely acetic perspective. He was a little odd looking with his abnormally high cheekbones and long, swan-like neck. However, these features only added to his appearance, making him more handsome and intriguing. The oddness of Sherlock's appearance along with those striking blue eyes and curly dark hair made John think he looked like some aristocratic prince of old. He most certainly held himself like one.

John shook his head, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach and his rather alarming fantasy of Sherlock in a regal crown and tights, and turned back to his meal. Then he suddenly remembered something he had forgotten to mention to Sherlock, something that had been pushed to back of his mind when he saw Jim and Sherlock kissing.

"People don't have archenemies." John announced to Sherlock.

Sherlock's head whipped toward him, looking rather confused, his eyes wide.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, rather slowly.

John took a bite of his chicken and continued.

"People don't have archenemies and yet this afternoon I met someone who claimed to be yours." He explained.

Sherlock suddenly nodded and he let out a deep sigh.

"Oh him." He said, seeming rather bored now. "Did he kidnap you and offer you money to spy on me?"

John let a short chuckle and leaned back in the booth.

"In fact, he did." He replied. "But I said no."

Sherlock shook his head at John.

"That's a shame." He said, matter-a-factly. "We could have split the fee."

John began to laugh, but seeing Sherlock was serious, he hid the rest of his laughter by taking another bite.

"But my point is that normal people don't have archenemies." John explained, once he had regained his composure. "Or even enemies for that matter."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, but John could see he was quite curious.

"Well, what do normal people have?" He asked John.

John raised his eyebrows, but he could tell Sherlock was once again serious. Had Sherlock never even had a real friend?

"Well..." John began, trying to find where to start. "I guess they have work colleagues, acquaintances, mates, people they don't like or even hate..."

John paused, clearing his throat, nervously.

"Boyfriends." He finished finally, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

John looked up at Sherlock to see his neck was slightly flushed. He refused to look John directly in the eye as he spoke.

"I told you before." Sherlock answered his voice stern and steady. "He is not my boyfriend."

John's voice was small, but he had to ask.

"But I am guessing he was at some point, right?" He questioned.

Sherlock nodded his jaw clenching. He still hadn't looked John in the eye.

"I don't like the silly label, but yes we were romantically involved." Sherlock answered. "But honestly relationships have never been my...forte."

John saw a flash of sorrow cross Sherlock's face, but he hid it quickly. John wanted to reached out and comfort him somehow, but he stopped himself and instead cleared his throat.

"That's alright." He said. "Honestly, I've, uh, never been good at romantic relationships either. I tend to muck it up at some point."

John took a deep breath, forcing a smile.

"But it's okay." He continued. "It just means you're unattached, like me."

John immediately regretted those last words as they left his mouth. _"Really John?"_ He thought. _"Are you actually hitting on this guy?"_ And to be honest with himself, John didn't know what he was doing. But as he looked up, Sherlock finally met his eyes. He seemed conflicted, his eyes narrowed and he was biting his inner cheek slightly. Finally, he answered and once again, it wasn't what John expected.

"Yes," Sherlock said slowly, a smile forming on his lips. "I guess that can be okay."

Relief swept through John's body, but it was quickly replaced with nerves. Did this mean Sherlock was actually interested in him? John didn't think it was possible, but all he could do was grin hopefully back.

Suddenly, Sherlock caught sight of something out the window and jumped out of his seat, running toward the door. And all John could do was happily follow Sherlock out into the street.

X

After what seemed like a lifetime of running, they finally arrived home, out of breath and giddy. Even though the chase had been for naught and they were back at square one, John was still somehow happy and he could see Sherlock felt the same. John could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He hadn't felt this alive since his time spent in Afghanistan behind enemy lines. But even then, it was different and filled with more fear and anxiety. This, what he was feeling now, was pure and joyful.

John collapsed against the stair post as Sherlock himself fell against the wall. John looked up him, that wonderful man who had already changed his life in two days, and smiled. Sherlock smiled back and before they knew it, they were both falling over in a fit of laughter.

John couldn't believe what they had just done: chased a cab on foot through the streets of London, frightened an American tourist, and impersonated an officer of the law. Then they had just ran, Sherlock leading him through back alleys and down streets John had never heard of. The patter of Sherlock's feet in front of him was somehow both invigorating and comforting. And now they were both standing in the entryway of _their_ flat laughing for reasons that made little sense to either of them.

As the laughter died down and they gained control of faculties, John looked up once again at Sherlock. Their eyes met and the laughter suddenly stopped, replaced with something else. That something was much deeper, much stronger. It was something so strong that John found his feet moving closer to Sherlock, even though he couldn't remember telling them to.

Suddenly, they were face and face and John thought his heart might explode from his chest. Sherlock was so close he could hear their shared ragged breath and feel Sherlock's on his face. And maybe if he was older and wiser, John would have stepped back, away from this mad man. Maybe if he was more reserved or logical, he would have broken Sherlock's gaze. But he didn't. John Watson stood there in front of Sherlock Holmes and despite all the alarms going off in his head, John leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sherlock's.

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><p><strong>Finally, right?! ;) However, I do warn that the next few chapters will take a bit of a darker turn, but in the meantime, hopefully you guys enjoyed this lovely bit of actual happiness. Please do review, follow and favorite if you are enjoying! I love hearing from my readers. It keeps me going! <strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Here is the new chapter as promised. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and follows. I would like to personally let Guest: Rosa know (since I could not reply to her directly) that after this chapter, the story will be deviating quite a bit from series 1 so there will be a lot of a orginial drama here to come! ;) Anyway, enjoy my darlings!**

**FYI: This is story is now rated M (due to sexual situations/language for now and future violence) so you have been warned!**

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><p>Sherlock's mind was in a daze. He couldn't believe it. John Watson was kissing him. "This has to be a dream." He told himself. But he knew it wasn't. John's lips were too real, too soft and too perfect for this to be dream. Even Sherlock's mind couldn't create something this wonderful.<p>

Sherlock moved his lips against John's, slowly at first, but the kiss quickly became more passionate as John ran his fingers through Sherlock's curls and Sherlock wrapped his hand around John's waist. Sherlock couldn't remember ever feeling this alive even with Jim at their best. It was better than the rush he got from solving a case. It was better than any drug-induced high. It was like the moment their lips meet, John had breathed new life into him.

Sherlock could feel John's hardness against his leg and if he wasn't aroused before, he was now. He pressed into John, rubbing his knee against John's groin as Jim had done to him early. As Sherlock felt John moan in his mouth, the small amount of self-control left in him was thrown to the wind and he flipped John around, slamming his back into the wall. It had been decided. Sherlock was going to rip John's clothes off right now in the entry way and fuck him against the wall. He would make love to this beautiful man until both collapsed out of sheer exhaustion. But just as Sherlock began to push John's coat off of him, he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and a familiar voice.

"Sherlock? John? Is that you?" Mrs. Hudson's voice rang out. John and Sherlock quickly broke apart and stepped away from each other, John slinging his coat back on his shoulders and Sherlock trying to flattened his hair. As Mrs. Hudson face came in to view on the stairs, Sherlock tried his best to look as innocent as possible.

"Yes, it's us." He replied, smiling up at her. "Is something a matter?"

Mrs. Hudson nodded and beckoned them upstairs as she spoke.

"It's the police, Sherlock." She said weakly. "I couldn't stop them."

All the euphoria from kissing John quickly left Sherlock and was replaced with worry and anger. "Not another drug bust." He thought to himself as he rushed up the stairs ahead of Mrs. Hudson and John. "Not again."

X

Sometime later, Sherlock was staring at his laptop, John right behind him. He was so close that Sherlock could feel his breath on his shoulder. However, unlike before, Sherlock knew John had no intention of kissing him. Not after what he had just found out about Sherlock's recent past. Sherlock could still see the disappointment on John's face when it was revealed to him by that asshole Anderson that only six months before Lestrade had found Sherlock in drug den nearly dead.

John had separated himself from the group for a few minutes, his face blank and Sherlock knew he was trying to process the fact that he had just almost fucked a junkie and degenerate. Sherlock hated that John had found out this way, but he figured it was better now than later. He didn't know why he had even tried to keep it from John. He usually didn't care if people knew, but that look on John's face had made him feel truly ashamed for the first time since he was a child.

Sherlock took a deep breath and tried to focus on the case as he turned to Lestrade, who was beside him.

"Did you ever find out who Rachel was?" Sherlock asked him.

Lestrade nodded, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, it was her stillborn daughter's name." He answered. "She's been dead for fourteen years."

Sherlock shook his head, frowning.

"But that doesn't make any sense!" He exclaimed. "Why would she write the name of her long dead daughter with her last breath?"

Sherlock heard the entire room gasp at this statement and quite confused, he turned to John slowly.

"Not good?" He asked, curious.

John nodded, letting out a half-smile.

"Yeah, a bit not good." He answered.

Sherlock sighed and turned back to his computer.

"But it still doesn't make sense." He said slowly. "It felt like she was trying to send us a message, like she was trying to-"

Sherlock gasped loudly and then let out a joyful laugh.

"Of course!" He continued, typing frantically on his computer. "She's brilliant! More brilliant than you lot and she's dead!"

Lestrade's entire team was gathered behind him now, but it was John who spoke.

"What do you mean?" He asked right next to Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock waved him off and asked for the case, which John handed to him. He quickly found the tag and began typing in the email address into the website.

"Find my phone?" John read slowly off the screen. "But why-"

Sherlock was quick to interrupt him as he continued to type.

"Come on John!" He said loudly. "It's obvious. She planted her phone on the killer before she died and since most phones have gps-"

This time John cut off Sherlock's words.

"She knew the police could track it!" He said, clear excitement in his voice. "But that means Rachel isn't just a person-"

Sherlock turned to John, smiling brightly as he pressed enter on the keyboard.

"It's her password." He finished for John. He found John smiling back at him and his stomach did flips. "Maybe all hope isn't lost?" He thought.

Everyone's eyes were glued on the computer as the map and beeping dot finally appeared. Sherlock frowned and shook his head in denial.

"No, no..." He said softly. "It can't be."

Sherlock heard Mrs. Hudson's ask for him at the flat door, but it was John's voice that rang out from beside him.

"What?" He asked. "Where does it say the phone is?"

Sherlock stood up from his chair and stepped away, running his fingers through his hair.

"It says the phone is...here." He said slowly, closing his eyes. He heard the room erupt in questions. Is he sure he searched the entire case? Are we sure the killer didn't hid it somewhere in the apartment? Are we sure Holmes isn't fucking with us? Sherlock tried to ignore them all, delving deep into his mind. "What am I missing?" He asked himself. "How could the phone be here?" Then suddenly Mrs. Hudson's voice rang through his barrier and his eyes snapped open as his walked toward her.

"What did you say?" He asked her, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

She frowned, tilting her head.

"I said your cab is here." She answered. "You did order a cab didn't you?"

Sherlock swallowed and peaked behind Mrs. Hudson's small form and saw a familiar face a few steps down peaking out of a blue ball cap. A face that sent both shock and fear coursing through his body. The smiling face of Jim Moriarty.

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><p><strong>Hopefully you guys enjoyed my little twist! There is more to come, trust me and next two chapters will be especially intense! I honestly don't know how long this story will last, but it will at least drag on for a few more chapters, if not more. As always, please comment, follow and favorite if you are enjoying! Much love to all my wonderful readers! :)<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**New chapter folks! Only two more after this until "Part 1" ends. I am still planning on continuing the story at a later date, but it might be a while until I come back to it. I do promise a relatively happy, but open ending for this part though. Anyone, hopefully you guys enjoy this one and thanks for reading! :)**

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><p>"How do we know Holmes isn't just fucking with us?"<p>

The moment John heard those words exit Anderson's mouth, he had to clench his fists to prevent him from socking him in the nose. Instead, he turned to that smug man and forced a very fake smile.

"What possibly reason would he have to do that?" John asked him, trying to keep his voice steady. Apparently the smile wasn't working because Anderson looked positively terrified.

"Well uh..." He stuttered, shrugging. "It just seems like something he would do. You know, for laughs."

John chuckled and stepped closer to Anderson. The man squirmed, looking rather uncomfortable. John continued to smile.

"Have you ever seen Sherlock Holmes laugh?" John asked him.

Anderson frowned, looking rather confused.

"Well, uh no I guess." He said finally.

John tilted his head slightly making sure his smile was sickly sweet. He glanced at Sherlock who was talking to Mrs. Hudson.

"Well, I have and trust me this doesn't seem like his kind of joke." He said.

Anderson suddenly stood up tall and it was his turn to smile.

"You just met him." He stated firmly. "I think our presence here proved that you don't know him at all."

John's smile vanished quickly and Anderson, seeming satisfied, turned back to another colleague. John collapsed into the chair in front of Sherlock's laptop. _"He's right."_ John thought sadly. _"I don't know anything about the man I just moved in with and snogged in the entryway."_ The odd thing was John felt like he had known Sherlock for years, but reality was showing him that clearly wasn't the case. First with Sherlock's "boyfriend" Jim and now with Sherlock's recent junkie past.

John groaned and placed his head in his hands. His mind was swimming with everything that had happened. A little more than 48 hours ago, he was a normal university student studying for an Astronomy exam and now it felt like he had stepped into a mystery/romance novel. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" John told himself. "Adventure, danger and this crazy man?"

Despite all the insanity that had happened, John couldn't deny that some part of him was really enjoying this. Maybe more of himself than he wanted to admit. John had always pictured himself having a relatively normal life: a decent medical practice, a nice house, and a happy family. But meeting Sherlock Holmes, running around London with him and kissing him (_"Especially kissing him."_ He admitted to himself), John couldn't imagine that simple life anymore. He didn't even want it. _"Maybe I never really did..."_ He thought.

John smiled at the thought of kissing Sherlock. God, it had been wonderful and he could easily picture himself doing it again. He couldn't deny Sherlock had some serious baggage, but that didn't stop John from wanting him. _"Besides, everyone has baggage."_ He told himself. _"Sherlock is just more upfront about his."_

John turned around in his chair to call out to Sherlock, but he was no longer standing in the doorway. John's eyes scanned the room, but he wasn't there.

"Where did Sherlock go?" John heard Lestrade ask Anderson.

"He probably ran off." Anderson replied. "I told you he was messing with us."

John stood up and checked the bedroom as well, but still found no sign of him. When he returned to the living room, John saw that the team was packing up and beginning to leave.

"Where are you going?" He asked Lestrade rather frantically. "You can't just leave. Sherlock could be in trouble."

Lestrade sighed, placing his hand on John's shoulder.

"We can't sit around here waiting for him to come back." He explained. "He does this all the time."

Lestrade chuckled and shook his head.

"Sherlock does things a little differently, but he usually gets the job done." He continued. "Don't worry about him."

Lestrade smiled at John and turned to leave before John's voice stopped him.

"Is Sherlock even..." John paused, not sure how to continue, but Lestrade finished the question for him.

"A good person?" Lestrade said. The detective nodded, still smiling. "Yeah, I think he is. With the help of the right person, I think he could even be a great one."

With those last words, Lestrade nodded at John and left the flat, leaving John by himself. He turned around and sat himself down in front of Sherlock's laptop again. For the first time, John finally glanced up at the screen. It was still on the website with the beeping dot showing the phone was still at 221B. John shook his head and was about to turn away when the dot began to move. He leaned closer to the screen and sure enough, the dot was slowly moving down the street.

John quickly whipped out his mobile and logged onto the website to find it showing the same thing. He stood up suddenly, knowing what he had to do. John dug through Sherlock's boxes. He was a detective, he had to have one. Finally, John found what he was looking for. He smiled, opening up a small case and slowly took out a 9mm pistol. He held it in his hand for just a second, getting used to that familiar weight. Then after checking to make sure it was loaded, he placed it in his waistband and he was gone, out the door of the 221B and then 221. The cold air hit his face and once again, John felt himself still smiling. _"You are heading into certain danger and you are bloody smiling?!"_ He thought as he hailed a cab. But honestly, he didn't care if that was insane or ridiculous. This was who he was and John had stopped pretending to be someone else the moment he met Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

><p><strong>John heading off to save the day! Or will he?... We will see! I know this chapter wasn't the best, but next chapter will all about our Sherlock and Jim so it should be lots of fun and drama. However, just as a warning, the next few weeks are going to be crazy for me so updates may be slow. I am starting a new job <span>and<span> have opening night for a play this coming Friday. I will try my best to keep them to once a week, but no promises. ;) Anyway, thank you guys so much for sticking with me and please review, follow and favorite! :)**


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